


Sons Of Rage and Love

by HighlighterAss



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Alcohol and Cigarette usage, Blowjobs, Breathplay, Exploring Cannon, Gueira gets his ass kicked constantly, M/M, Nevada, Origin Story, Partners in Crime, Pining, Plot With Porn, Road Trip, Rough Sex, Sex in... unfortunate places, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Why cant they leave Nevada?, headcannon heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25473127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighlighterAss/pseuds/HighlighterAss
Summary: Gueira and Meis meet in a beach town holding cell and end up partners in crime, heading out on a road trip into the unknown. Discovering their strength of their flames, and the fire slowly kindling for each other.
Relationships: Gueira/Meis (Promare)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Hi I posted this like three days ago and then deleted it because I watched Promare again and noticed some inconsistencies but I'm kicking myself cause it didn't affect the first chapter so If you've seen this before just.. you know... ANYWAY)
> 
> Whoo, yeah two dudes figuring out how to be Burnish, A lot of this is based on headcannon, I'll try to explain myself if I feel the need to... 
> 
> Just remember they're baby burnish at the beginning, so they don't know how to use the Promare to their full potential yet. ;3

The world is spinning when Gueira finally opens his eyes. 

Wincing under the harsh fluorescent lights dangling above him. Every inch of his body aches, his throat is too dry, and a sharp pain radiates from his left eye with each groggy blink. 

The skin of his cheeks stings where it rests against cold concrete. 

He sits up, regretting removing himself from the chilly floor immediately. 

Why is it so damn hot in here? 

Wherever here is. 

Memories of the last few hours finally come swimming into his mind. 

Some drunk asshole got in his face on the boardwalk. A fit of anger had churned in his stomach, and he swung a solid left into the drunkard's chin.

Though, after that... he remembers nothing.

Said drunkard is not in the cell with him, thankfully, but he's not alone.

Gueira crawls to his feet, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow and swaying as nausea hits him. Trying to focus on the slim figure leaning against the far wall. Peering at him from behind a curtain of dark hair. 

"Got a Problem?" The man grunts, raising the one visible brow, and Gueira snorts. 

"I think I should be the one asking you that." He collapses back on the metal bench, cracking his neck. 

The man squints at him, seeming to break apart his retort as he picks at the skin around his nails aimlessly. "I was here first... I think I have a right to stare." He grouses. "Especially with that shiner. You got banged up real good, didn't you?"

"Shut up." Gueira laughs. "You should see the other guy.."

"Oh, you managed to get a look at him before you got your ass handed to you?" The man murmurs, "Because he looked fine when his wife posted bail."

Gueira curls his lip and shifts away, glancing out the barred doors of the cell. 

It's deathly silent inside the station with only the ticking of the clock on the far wall to break up the void. It's nearly midnight, and the small beach town station is empty, aside from the cellmates and the officer in the lobby. Gueira taps his foot along with the second's hand. Tugging at the collar of his shirt as the sweat drips down his back. 

Wondering if he would even get the option to post his own bail.

Not that he could afford it...

"So, how's it look anyway?" He finally asks, sick of the silence—a snarky grin tugging against the tender skin around his eye as he points at it.

"Like you, lost." The stranger informs him, crossing his arms.

"Fuck you." Gueira laughs. "What they get you on, anyway? Wearing leather on the beach?"

His cellmate opens his mouth to retort but chuckles instead. "Carjacking."

Gueira nods slowly. "Why were you, carjacking?"

"Allegedly."

"Okay, well, why were you allegedly carjacking?"

"I needed a car." The man offers, picking at his teeth with his thumb as he turns back to look into the lobby, skinny legs tapping a mile a minute.

"So why'd you pick a fight with a guy twice your size?" The stranger blurts. 

Gueira purses his lips, trying to remember. "He was harassing some chicks." He muses. Yeah, that sounds about right. "But, I guess the cops didn't get that story."

"They never do." The stranger mutters, looking over at him with a shine in his eye.

The look sends a shiver down his back, and Gueira shifts under the surly gaze. "Hey, you... okay, man? You seem–"

"Quiet in there..." The officer in the front interrupts, and Gueira feels his lip involuntarily curl. 

The lanky man stands silently, sliding over to Gueira and leaning in to whisper. "Look... I'm waitin for an opportunity to pull something, but I don't want to catch you in the crossfire."

Gueira cocks his head. "This... isn't prison man... You'll get out with a slap on the wrist and–"

"I'm wanted for shit I didn't do," he interrupts. "I'm not getting reamed off the coast of nowheresville."

Gueira nods, glancing back out at the officer. "What kind of opportunity do you need?"

"I just need him to come over here," he explains, flexing his hands.

Gueira sniffs, knocking a fist against the bars of the cell. "Oi, you motherfuckers got any aspirin?" He shouts to the desk sergeant.

He hears a scoff from down the hall.

"Yo, my buddy asked for an aspirin." The cellmate calls out, catching onto the ruse, and Gueira hears the officer slam the paper he was reading into the top of the desk.

"Both of you shut up!"

"I'll shut up if you give me something for this hangover."

"Live with it, kid."

Gueira grits his teeth, "I'm not a fuckin kid."

"Well, you sure the fuck aren't 21." The man scoffs.

"Oh, fuck you, man." He shouts, driving the toe of his boot into the concrete flooring. "Can you just get me something for this headache?" He growls. "I can feel my skull splitting in half..."

The sound of a chair scooting back rings out through the station and heavy footfalls approach. A squat little man glares down at Gueira. "Live with it. Champ." The cop purses his lips, emphasizing the misnomer. 

"Make that two aspirins." His cellmate adds, taking a deep breath and getting to his feet.

Another bead of sweat rolls down his neck and the room grows impossibly warmer.

It doesn't feel right, as if the harsh seaside sun had somehow crept into the station with them. Drying out Gueira's throat as a light buzzing exacerbates the lingering headache. 

"And turn on the fucking AC man it's hot as hell in here!" He demands. Keep talking... let the car thief do his thing. 

"What? The AC is on?" The officer frowns.

"It's a fuckin sauna in here, dude. Turn it up–" A roll of bile curls under his jaw, and Gueira freezes. 

He can't puke now, no way, man. 

His vision starts to blur.

It's so loud, why is it so loud? 

Tiny blurbs of language dance around his head, creating a staticky buzzing feeling. The way you feel sitting too close to a fireworks display. Which is... you know unusual. 

He can barely make out the desk sergeant's voice, as he rests his head between his knees. "–And I don't take orders from punks like you–"

Bile fills his mouth as the heat and pressure in his ears build. Creating a terrifying sensation of sightlessness, heat, sound. 

Then, there's only fire. 

Flickering rosy flames spread out across the floor. His pulse rises, and his vision goes white. Only sudden bursts of movement manage to break through the cacophony. A scream echoes into the cell. 

There's a hand on the back of his jacket, and he's being dragged across the station. Out the front doors, through the passenger side window of a cruiser. 

The sudden onslaught of nausea, sends him reeling back over the side of the car door. Blowing chunks as the car takes off, leaving the station to burn in a hypnotizing technicolor haze.

Gueira watches tt through bleary eyes until he finally pulls his head back in groaning. "fuck dude..." he coughs, looking over at his cellmate.

The man's holding out a wad of napkins in trembling hands.

Gueira accepts them, wiping his face. Taking a swig of the stale coffee left in the cup holder, to spit it out the window.

"How's that for a jailbreak?" He laughs.

"Dude, that was a disaster." The stranger exclaims. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Flaring up like that." He shakes his head, knuckles clasp white to the steering wheel.

"What?" Gueira snorts flexing his fingers. 

He feels different. Though, not unlike he had imagined it might feel. 

To be Burnish.

His skin tingles to the touch as if tiny embers flowed through his veins. A soft hum rests in the back of his mind. Soothing, not as powerful or oppressive as it was in the station, but it's there. Easing back the pain in his head and the bruise on his face. 

It feels... great. He flexes his fingers and tries to call a flame until the stranger's hand grabs his. 

"No, absolutely not don't use that right now."

"What? Why I want to see it.."

"Dude, you have zero control, and we are in a car that will explode if you go haywire. It doesn't matter that we're Burnish, we will die." He shouts in a panic. 

"Wait! You too?" Gueira whoops, raising his other hand to high-five the man but receives a stoic glare in response.

"Knock it off. This is serious."

Gueira sinks down into his seat glancing out at the tiny beachfront town disappearing over the horizon. 

Shabby shacks and long ranch houses are replaced with open fields, spreading out into the darkness. 

"I'm Meis, by the way." The Dark man murmurs.

"Gueira."

"So, you aren't... bothered by this at all?" He muses, turning his head to look at him through his one visible eye. 

"About what? Becoming burnish? Or having to throw my life away because of it?" He laughs. 

"Both?"

"Nah." Gueira waves a hand, rolling down the window of the cruiser. "I've been just been wasting time these days... might be fun to go off the grid."

"This shit isn't fun." Meis warns, "If we're caught, we're as good as dead, you know that, right?"

"Sure, but what's life without a little thrill?" Gueira grins at him, and Meis squints. Shaking his head. 

"Its been a month for me." He sighs. "Chased out of Dallas, hitched here... I still don't know where I'm going..." he groans, leaning forward against the wheel. 

A ping of guilt rumbles through his gut over the defeated tone in Meis's voice. 

"I... bet that's been rough.." He offers.

Meis nods. "Its a work in progress."

"We could find somewhere." Gueira offers after an awkward pause. "Somewhere safe." 

Meis glances at him out of the corner of his eye. "We?"

"Yeah, we." Gueira scoffs, kicking his feet up onto the dashboard. "Strength in numbers, you know? Watch each other's backs."

"Why the hell would I want to watch your back?" Meis snorts.

"Cause who else is gonna?

The man's shoulders stiffen, and he seems to concede to that line of reasoning.

Gueira lets silence consume them, leaning his head out the window. The dim bite of summer air beats against his face. 

It feels like more of a force against his skin now. Not cool, just intense pressure. He breathes in the salty air as it fades into something damp and earthy. 

"Get back in here," Meis tugs at his sleeve. "I don't want anyone to see us."

Gueira sits down, playing with the rearview mirror. 

"We're going to have to ditch this car soon and get another," Meis informs him, glancing up into the rearview mirror, readjusting it back into place. "Obviously, I have experience in that department–"

"'Cept you got caught."

"That was only the first time." Meis glowers at him. "We get a car... or if not, we can always hitchhike.."

"People really still do that?" Gueira scoffs.

"Yeah, that's how I got here?" Meis laughs, "Hey, hold the wheel real quick." He directs. 

Gueira instinctively reaches out to grab it. Watching as Meis tugs his hair back, pulling it up in a messy bun at the back of his head. 

It falls in broken strands across his face. 

As slick and rough as the other man appears, with his defined nose and sharp jawline, he has a strange, delicate air surrounding him like a blade that would snap in half after one use. 

Meis locks his eye onto Geuira warily as he tucks in the falling strands until his face is lit under the glow of an oncoming car.

"Watch the road." He grunts, yanking them out of the way of an oncoming truck at the last second.

Gueira sits back, examining the flickering yellow dashes along the highway. He tries to shove his strange soft thoughts about silky hair into the back of his mind and watch the dark scenery fly by. "So we'll grab a new car, where?

Meis hums under his breath, leaning forward and pulling over to the side of the road. Sliding out.

"Betcha five bucks, that's a rest stop." He points into the distance. 

A pinprick of light shimmers on the other side of the field beside them. 

Gueira makes an O-face and nods. "Gotcha..."

"Great, now help me flip this." Meis waves a hand, and Gueira climbs out. Nearly falling into a ditch running along the side of the road.

"Oh, fuck... smart." He squeezes by the side of the vehicle, and he and Meis rock it down into the ditch.

"Great work, boss..."

"Don't call me that," Meis mutters coldly, stepping over the car's stomach to cross the ditch.

Gueira follows, chuckling to himself and  stumbling over the uneven terrain.  "You know... I'll bet it's a diner." He grunts. "Actually, I hope it's a diner." He wines, holding his stomach.

Meis remains silent for a moment, before nodding slowly. "Yeah... I'd kill for a good burger.."

"Well, I don't know you'd find that out here, but..." 

Meis laughs, and Gueira finds the sound resonating in his chest. Echoing as if it were coming from his own lungs.

"Can I see it now?" Gueira asks, flexing his fingers as they meander through the empty field. "The fire.."

Meis looks around, sighing softly. "Fine, but only a little... got it."

Gueira cups his hands together, feeling the heat pool in his palms. 

It's gentle, crackling in joyous excitement. 

A delighted smile crosses his cheeks, and he glances up at his companion. "This is so cool..."

"Remember how this feels," Meis whispers. "You might spark off a few times in the first couple of weeks. So just be mindful, that no one sees us–"

"Wait, shit..." Gueira watches as the flame jumps in size, sputtering angrily before receding from his palm completely. He can't bring the heat back into his grasp, and he huffs. 

"It does that too." Meis sighs. "You'll get used to it.."

"How long did it take you?" Gueira asks, as his dark companion leads the way toward the rest stop.

"Well... Like I said, it's only been a month." Meis admits. "But I think my control is better now–"

"Wait, you're only a month into this, and you're giving me shit for not having control?" Gueira cackles. "You're a real douche, you know that."

Meis glances at him shaking his head. "You know you could just jack your own car if you want?" He shoves his hands into his pockets. "I don't know you, I don't have to help you."

"But you are." Gueira slings his arm over the other Burnish's shoulders. "We're partners in crime now! Burnish Bonnie and Clyde..."

Meis rolls his eyes. "Jesus, you're gonna be the death of me."

"You can be the Bonnie. You got the pretty hair after all."

"I'm going to leave you at this rest stop." Meis threatens, throwing the arm off his shoulders.

"Loosen up."

"When we're miles outside of Florida, I'll loosen up." Meis snorts. "Until then, I need you to keep your shit together."

Gueira grumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets as they proceed toward the weak lights on the horizon.


	2. Chapter 2

Gueira slumps back in the booth of the roadside diner. Staring out into the dimly lit parking, devoid of pedestrian cars, but surrounded by trucks. 

Consequently, rough-looking drivers fill out most of the other booths around them, eating alone or in groups of two or three. The slick-looking pair of Burnish stand out, despite their equally worn appearances, and Gueira finds himself tugging up the collar of his jacket in unease every couple of minutes. 

The excitement of the jailbreak has long worn off, and he starts to rationalize their situation. Most of his life has been spent trying to keep his head above water. Floundering in the socio-economic fallout of the second world blaze. Trying to make a space for himself in a world where handouts are hard to come by. 

It wasn't easy for anyone, and even now, nearly a decade later, he's been swept up in the undertow. Entirely thrown off balance.

They're going to be on the move a lot. Running from city to city, to avoid suspicion. Though they're suspicious characters, to begin with. 

A reassuring warmth in the back of his mind eases his distress to some extent. Reminding him to keep going. 

It would be alright, it seemed to tell him. 

At least he's not alone this time.

He fixes his gaze on the back of the menu in Meis's grip. Admiring his spindly little spider hands. Delicate with short nails and flecks of black paint still stuck in the cuticles. 

A waitress stops by, filling up their mugs with coffee and taking an order for burgers. 

"I'll find us a ride." He mutters, handing off the menu, looking around at the other patrons. 

"I can help–"

"No..." Meis holds up a hand. "I got it. I've been doing this for a month now, remember."

Gueira nods, finding the cold look in his eye unnerving.

Cold isn't the word. It's more like revulsion. Like the idea of asking for a ride is somehow painful, and he carries that agitated gait with him as he stands wordlessly to wander between the groups.

The food is dropped off shortly after he leaves, and Gueira inhales his burger. Delighted by the fresh burst of energy, filling his stomach. Nearly forgetting his companion, and their dismal little situation as the buzzing in his ears encourages him further.

Meis is talking to one guy now, leaning in close while the stranger nods, and Meis motions over at Gueira. 

They seem to have an argument, but Meis eventually pats him on the shoulder, coming back to eat. 

"That guy's gonna let us ride in the cab." He reveals. Working his way through the meal, glancing at the trucker every few minutes.

"Thought you were arguing with him." Gueira snorts, pulling apart a leftover french fry between his fingers.

"No..." Meis murmurs around a bite of soggy bun. "Sometimes, these guys just... ask for a little too much."

Gueira nods slowly, missing the indication.

The trucker is watching them, as he chews through his waffle. Eyes fixed on Meis, with a look that churns Gueira's stomach.

"He's looking at you funny... I don't know that we can trust him–" 

"It's fine." Meis whispers, a harsh bite to his tone. "Don't think about it too hard."

Gueira twists his lips, leaning back and staring out the window again. 

"Can I have the rest of your fries?" His dark companion asks. Having wiped out his meal in a matter of seconds.

"Go at it, man."

Meis shifts the plate closer, cleaning both their dishes. "You're quiet." He mentions. "Everything alright up there?"

Gueira rubs the back of his neck. The unusual restlessness returning to pool in the back of his throat. 

"I don't know. I'm not leaving anything behind." He sighs. "No one's going to miss me, go looking for me. The family left a long time ago." He stretches. "I don't have like... stuff. I'm not going to miss anything back there. But as much as I think it might be good to just, vanish... dunno, just knowing no one will miss me is... depressing."

Meis glances up at him. "Your family left?"

"They went back to the DR." He pats the top of his knee, "They left a couple years after the Blaze."

"Why didn't you go with them?" Meis asks. 

Gueira shrugs. "I dont really remember. I think there were issues with immigration... plus I had like... kid shit going on... dunno. I ended up living with my Abuela in Miami... she died a couple years back." He offers, deciding he wasn't all that excited about this conversation. "It's not a big deal, It's just all hitting me now..."

He starts dumping sugar packets into the coffee cup beside him. Playing with the dark liquid as the tiny crystals dissolve. 

"It's rough," Meis agrees, resting his head in his hand. "Especially for kids like us."

"Don't give me that shit I'm only four months from 21." He laughs.

Meis waves a hand. "That's not what I meant," he snorts. "Like... you're in it now... there's nothing I can say to reassure you.."

"Don't need that." Gueira huffs. "I can handle anything this bitch of a world will throw at me." He grins, and Meis just studies him. 

"We'll see..." He glances over his shoulder again. 

The trucker Meis talked to makes his way over them, knocking a fist against the plastic tabletop. 

"ey, I'm gonna hit the head, we can get going after that." He cocks his thumb at the bathroom, and Meis nods slowly standing. 

"Me too..." He mutters, dropping the last french fry onto his plate. His shoulders haunched as he follows the stranger into the restroom.

Gueira leans back against the booth, watching the reflection of the door in the window beside him.

The muttering in his mind starts to pick up, seeming panicked, drawing Gueira's unease back to the forefront of his mind. 

Electric energy courses through his veins, and the room grows stifling. 

Something's not right... he can't pinpoint exactly what it is, but... 

He wants to see the fire again. 

He wants to feel it on his skin and watch it consume. Whether it's the diner, the empty fields surrounding the 24hour rest stop, maybe even the whole world. Like a strange reassurance that no matter what happens to them, he has the power to protect himself.

Something's... very wrong.

He slides out of the booth, perching himself on the diner's front steps. Bumming a cigarette off a trio of bikers lingering by the doors. Pretending to pull a lighter from his pocket and lighting the stick with his thumb. 

His fire sputters, but those nearby don't seem to notice. Just that bit of release is enough to calm him as he breathes out a puff of smoke. 

The damp air curls in his nose, and he attempts to corral the buzzing thoughts in his mind.

It just gets worse, pounding into his head with an echoing panic rising in his throat. He rests his head between his legs, letting the cigarette linger at the tips of his fingers. Trying to pinpoint the origin of his unease. 

What is going on with him?

Those two are taking a while, he realizes. Flicking the butt of the cigarette into the parking lot.

Glancing over his shoulder back into the diner. 

And then suddenly, Meis emerges from the restroom. 

Tugging his hair down from a bun he hadn't entered with, and Gueira feels comfort wash over him.

Was he concerned about his partner's safety? 

Not likely, he just went to the bathroom...

The trucker emerges shortly after. A cheeky grin on his lips as he pats Meis on the back, and they head for the door.

Loading into the cab of a shipping rig to set out on the open road. 

The confined space reeks of BO and Diesel, but at least the driver lets them roll the windows down. 

Meis is squished in the middle, leaning close to Gueira's side. His knuckles white, gripping into the fabric of his pants as he struggles to breathe out smoothly.

They're both uneasy, he realizes sliding his hand over Meis's, trying to give him an ounce of reassurance.

They were going to be okay.

* * *

The sun rises and sets again as the rig rumbles down the highway. Leaving the swampy marshes and the occasional beachside view, as they start veering away from the coast. Into spacious open farmland, passing orchards, and empty, dilapidated farmhouses. The trucker stays mostly silent, talking over the receiver every now and then with other nearby rigs, but says nothing to them. 

Gueira sleeps most of the time in between rest stops. His head pressed against the smugged and dusty window of the cab. 

He's not sure if Meis got an ounce of rest. He had offered his shoulder, but the spindly man seems to prefer to keep his wits about him.

Then, on their second night driving, Gueira wakes in a panic. 

A wave of heat coursing under his skin. Little bolts of electricity collecting in his fingers as he glances over at his companions.

The trucker is muttering something under his breath, and Meis nods. 

Gueira can't make out what they're saying over the engine's roar and the wind whipping through the open cab windows. 

But his partner's knuckles are once again gripped tensely in Gueira's palm. 

"–that's not what we agreed on..." Gueira finally catches Meis's voice over the racket.

"Well this is my truck, if you wanna get all the way to Las Vegas, you need to put out." The man grumbles.

Put out? Gueira glances out the window. Struggling to piece the conversation together. 

Finally understanding why Meis had insisted on talking to the man, and why he was so grossly uneasy when his partner was away from his side. 

Gueira keeps his head low, watching Meis turn his attention to the front windows. Taking a deep breath. 

"Fine..."

"No, not fine." Gueira sits up, leaning forward to give the trucker a piece of his mind when Meis holds out his arm. 

"It's fine." he spits, emphasizing the words.

"No, it's not dude." Gueira shoves the restraint away. "You're not okay with this..." He glares at the trucker, his lip curling as he leans over Meis to get in the man's face. "Look, I ain't about to let you swindle us–"

"Then get out of the truck." The trucker sneers. "It's my way or the highway here, kiddo."

Gueira balls his hands into fists. Sparks erupting around his ears, and Meis grips his hand in panic. "You either make good on your deal, or I burn this motherfucker to the ground."

The trucker's eyes widen, and he moves away from the Burnish, as Gueira lets his anger coil out of his body. Raising the temperature in the cab to boiling pint, as embers catch on the seat.

Meis shouts as the trucker snatches the receiver, starting to babble out a call for help until Gueira slices the line. 

"I'm not fucking around man–"

"Gueira chill out..."

"No, I'm not–" The buzzing in his ears overwhelms his natural senses. Excited about the opportunity to burn. Encouraging him to go buck wild. 

He rests a hand against the dashboard and falls forward as the heat in his palms burns a hole in the plastic. 

It catches on fire. 

Everything does. 

Sparks fly from his hands, curling up from his stomach as the trucker jerks the wheel, throwing them off the road. 

Gueira squeezes his eyes shut, and the ground approaches the passenger side window. 

Something stiff, like searing metal, grips him tightly.

The truck rolls over in the breakdown lane, as horns blare on the highway. 

And he's carried from the uncontrolled blaze. Dragged over the cement by a figure twice his size. 

He struggles in the grip, gazing in horror at the terrifying shape leering over him— A curling horn and large yellow teeth, surrounded by flickering blue flames.

He struggles out of the grip. But finds himself held firmly in place, by a secondary pair of arms, curling over the creatures back. He's lifted from the ground, feeling the almost lifelike heat emanating from the form. 

Almost lifelike.

It's armor. 

It feels the same as his fire. Warm and humming under his fingertips. Expelling a sense of urgency, underlaid with that constant reminder that everything would be alright.

It's Meis.

He breathes a sigh of relief, as they sprint through the field beside the wreckage. Gueira watching over one flared shoulder, as the truck is consumed by red and green-tinged flames. 

Burning to the ground, just like Gueira promised.

He's always been good at keeping his promises.

* * *

Meis finally sets him down out of sight of the crash, in a thicket of trees as far away as he can carry him. The Burnish is panting as the armor fades from his body. Flaking off like ash as he collapses into the dirt. 

"How the fuck did you do that?" Gueira howls, shaking his shoulders in excitement.

"I... have no idea", Meis mutters, staring at his hands, still coated in the black armor. 

"That was the coolest shit." Gueira whoops. "Can I do that? What did you do?"

"I just... needed to protect us..." He glances up at his partner in horror, lost for words. "That was so fucking close..."

"I'm gonna try now." Gueira cracks his knuckles and tries to summon the flames. 

But nothing happens. 

He stomps his foot into the ground, and Meis laughs. His voice laced in exhaustion. "Stop, I don't recommend it..."

"What?"

Meis opens his mouth to respond but sways in place. Collapsing to the ground.

"Meis..." He reaches out to shake his partners shoulder. "Hello?"

He's passed out. Breathing softly into the pile of leaves where he's fallen. 

Gueira leans forward, brushing his hair back, out of the foliage. "Got it... that drained you, huh." He shucks his jacket from his shoulders, slinging it over Meis's bare arms, and lifting the dead weight onto his back. "Can't sleep here though, man..." He mutters, doing the carrying this time, as he presses deeper into the dark little forest, looking for somewhere secluded for them to rest. Heaving under the strain of the extra weight.

A break in the thicket reveals a tall fence, with barbed wire, encircling a junkyard. 

Shit. 

He lets his partner down, staring up at the fence. 

It looks like it extends the length of the woods. They'd have to go through to get anywhere soon.

He peers into the desolate yard, looking for any signs of life.

None of course. 

Gueira rests his hands on the wire, managing to melt the metal enough to bend a way through. Carrying Meis on his back again.

Finding a rusting old corvette, figuring they can hide here for the night.

He sets Meis down across the back seat, pulling the roof up over them. The fabric is patched and worn but shields them well enough. 

He climbs into the front seat, running his hands over the steering wheel. Deciding to keep watch while the other sleeps. 

His thoughts drift back to the suit of armor Meis had covered himself in. 

This is more than fire, he figures, drawing a flame to bounce between his fingers.

Making something physical, even if it takes a lot of energy. Gueira pats the wheel of the car, his mind running a mile a minute. 

What else could the fire do?

He hops back out, lifting the car's rusty hood to get a look at the interior. 

Despite rusting and wear, the engine seems to be intact. Actually, this would probably fetch a fortune if they found the right buyer. 

And it's just sitting out in the middle of nowhere like this?

He rubs his chin.

If he could get this thing running. They'd never have to hitchhike again... and avoid drawing attention to themselves in a stolen car. Not to mention... it's a bitchin ride. Sleek and black with dulled silver accents. If they managed to clean her up, he'd be the happiest motherfucker on the planet.

He slides back into the passenger seat, closing his eyes. 

He tries a few practice flares, pointing and shooting, trying to pull the fire out of thin air. It's tricky at first, but as the sun creeps up over the horizon, Gueira successfully manages to figure out how to ignite the rusted engine, starting the car with a rickety groan. 

As the intake pushes his flames through the vehicle. He presses the gas, and it gives, moving a few feet forward. 

"Needs more juice." He mutters under his breath, letting the fire curl from his fingertips into the engine. 

The corvette spins out, screeching on worn wheels as it heads toward the fence. He grips the wheel tightly, bracing himself as the wire crumples under the force of the metal death trap, and peels out over the field and onto a deserted back road. 

The buzzing in his mind rejoices. Fueling Gueira with excitement as they race down the old dirt road. 

Flying over empty highways, with the wind in his hair. 

It's a dream. 

He breathes in the dusty air, poking at the radio with no luck. 

They could fix that later. Fix up the rustbucket to look good as new.

Meis is going to love this. 

Handling the flames is getting much easier. The ebb and flow of the engine pulls the fire from him as if it were an extension of himself. 

Though he reckons it is. 

Meis wakes up as the sun climbs higher into the sky. Sending blinding beams of unfelt heat through the car's interior. 

He climbs into the passenger seat, looking around in confusion.

"Where the hell did you get this hunk of junk?" He asks, throwing a gathering of cans and garbage from the floor of their new ride.

Gueira laughs. "Found her in a junkyard. She's a catch, right?"

"Hell yeah..." Meis whoops, sticking his hand out the window.

"What should we call her?"

"Vegas!" Meis shouts over the roaring engine. 

"Oh, classy." He snickers, flooring it and taking a turn pointing to the highway. "So why are we going to Vegas anyway?"

His partner shrugs, leaning back in the seat, pulling a pack of smokes from his pocket and offering one to Gueira. 

"Trucker warned me about going there." He explains. "Apparently, Burnish have been congregating there. Hiding in stealth. It's easier to blend into a town that's always been in the thick of desolation." Meis laughs.

Gueira nods, holding the cigarette between his teeth and lighting it with a snap of his fingers. 

"Cool, Las Vegas, it is."

"Do you know how to get there?" Meis chuckles, and Gueira shakes his head. 

"Nah, we'll figure it out as we go."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just some of their fucking around on the road and Gueira experiencing gay panic.

Gueira saunters down the freezer aisle of the first running convenience store the pair have seen in weeks. Staring at the cheap boxes of beer, debating how much effort it would take to smuggle one out. 

He cranes his neck, looking for Meis across the aisle. 

"Oi," He shouts. "Can we get a 12-pack?"

Meis cocks a brow. "If you're paying," he snorts, joining him by the freezer, staring at the box. "I dont have the cash for that." He glances over at the clerk. 

Leaning against the counter looking at his phone. Without care for what the two Burnish were doing. 

Gueira shrugs. "Could just nick it..."

"Don't give the kid trouble." Meis murmurs. 

"Just saying. These days beer should be considered essential items."

Meis snorts. "You're paying for it." He goes back to examining the cans of ravioli behind him. "Get a cooler while you're at it."

"You got it, boss." He snickers, and fees a sharp jab to his back. "I'm just kidding, geez." He turns to his partner, only to be shoved to his knees. "What the fuck–"

"Shut up," Meis whispers. His eyes wide, peering up over the top of the aisle. 

Gueira frowns, hearing the door to the store open with a cheery ding, and a pair of heavy metallic footsteps tread over the tiled floor.

"Fuck." Meis breathes. "Drop your shit we have to go."

"What? Why?" He tries to look up over the aisle, but Meis tugs him down again. 

"I said–" He freezes, straightening up. Turning to face his partner with his eye blown wide. 

A pair of men enter Gueira's line of sight. Dressed in black armor, going for the coffee station at the back of the shop.

He squints at their elaborate mech suits. Recognizing them from somewhere.

"You afraid of some nerds in cosplay?" he shakes his head. "Come on man–"

One of the guys looks up, fixing Gueira with a scrutinizing stare, and placing a hand to a device on the side of his face. 

Meis glances over his shoulder.

Tension reverberating through him, into Gueira, as the buzzing in his mind roars to life.

"Burnish." The armored man announces. Pulling a gun from the holster at his side. 

Meis yelps, shoving Gueira back, as a block of ice envelops his torso. Sending him careening to the ground.

Gueira slams into the freezer beside him, as the gun is leveled to shoot again. 

"Run dumbass," Meis shouts. Struggling under the weight of his restraints. 

"Well, look who we have here." The agent laughs, keeping his gun poised on Meis as he takes a step forward. "You run fast skinny. But we knew we'd catch up to you eventually." He jeers, adjusting the Barrell to face Gueira. "Hands above your head, Red. Come quietly." The mech man demands. 

"Sorry, man, coming quietly isn't a concept I'm familiar with." Gueira whoops, throwing a blast of fire at his assailant. Sending him careening on his back against the far wall. The second agent draws his gun and charges down the Burnish as he vaults over the shelves. Racing down the aisle between them to avoid the shards of ice shattering glass and bags of chips with horrible aim. 

Gueira twists around. Gearing up to send a direct strike of flame at his attacker, only to slip on a discarded piece of ice in his path.

"Moron," the man laughs, preparing to fire again, point-blank. 

Gueira kicks the barrel, propelling the blast up into the ceiling and swiping at the attacker's legs. Sending him crashing down into the candy display. 

"Bastard!" The second guard shouts from Gueira's back. Before he can scramble out of the way, Meis turns the corner. Slamming his frozen wrists against the guard's head. Shattering his restraints and sending the man careening to his knees, faceplanting into the floor. 

Meis spits on the back of his head, raising his brow at Gueira. "Good job, man." He sniffs as Gueira struggles to his feet. 

"Same to you." He laughs out the unease in his lungs, and Meis offers him a hand, pulling him to his feet. 

Gueira takes the raw skin of his partner's wrists between his hands, supplying him with a little extra heat. 

"You dont have to do that." He mutters. 

"I want to... it looks like it hurts." 

Meis frowns, glancing back at the soldier behind them. "We shouldn't stick around..." 

"Yeah..." Gueira murmurs, gritting his teeth at the unwelcomed disturbance. "But on the plus side. We can get as much shit as we want now."

Meis furrows his brow and opens his mouth to protest, but shakes his head instead.

"Well, then load her up."

* * *

"So who were those guys?" Gueira asks once they're back on the move. 

Road Sodas in hand, taking a chug of the stale beer and ignoring the cheap yeast's stinging bite. 

"Freeze Force." He states. 

Gueira blinks slowly, trying to process that. "Oh... shit."

"How did you not know that?" Meis asks, shaking his head. 

"Dunno, I dont watch the news." Gueira studies his partner out of the corner of his eye as he cackles. Burying the sound into the beer in his hand.

His hair billows in the breeze as they drive. Flowing out behind him like waves of twilight in the open air. Resting his feet up on the dashboard and cracking his fingers.

They've worked well together. Shared the same needs and sentiments. 

Whether it's picking themselves up out of a prickly situation or choosing the direction to drive. They can't find it in them to have a real disagreement. He's grown to trust Meis, knowing him to have a good heart, even if it is a little rough. 

"They said they were chasing you?" Gueira mumbles. 

"They chase everyone." He sighs. "Don't worry, I'm not special, I just got away."

Gueira hums, glancing down into the canyon along the edge of the cliff.

The desert extends miles around them, past the plateau they're working on driving around. Millions of stars greet them through the darkness above. "This is just crazy." Meis murmurs, staring out into the bespeckled sky. 

"What is?" Gueira asks as Meis crushes his can in his palm. 

"Just... how much there is..." He waves a hand. "Dunno, it's hard to explain..."

"It's the open road." Gueira offers.

"You just don't get to see it everywhere." Meis nods. 

"What Texas isn't a sprawling open abyss?"

He snorts, "I only know what the city looks like," He admits, leaning over the car door to peer into the canyon. "When we moved there, after the Blaze, I never left Dallas."

Gueira nods, examining Meis over the curve of his can.

"You miss it?" He asks.

"What Dallas?" Meis asks, running a hand through his hair. He leans back, sucking on his teeth in thought. "I miss my family." He admits shrugging. "My... uh..." He glances at Gueira out of the corner of his eye. "Ex..."

Gueira raises a brow. "Why'd you say it like that?"

"Well... "He shakes his head. "It's complicated."

Gueira squints at him in confusion. "Do you want to talk about that or..."

"No... well.." He sighs. "Actually, sure, I'll talk about it."

"You don't have to.."

"I want to," Meis mutters. "We were off when I mutated into Burnish," Meis admits. "I didn't see him before I left."

Gueira hums, leaning forward to examine his expression. 

His one eye hangs hooded as he thinks, mouth turned into a painful frown, and he groans. "We were always kinda on again off again... He kinda hated that he liked me."

"Why?"

"Internalized homophobia?" Meis snorts. "I don't know. Nothing I'd say could really ease his mind about it... but I thought I loved him." 

"You don't?"

"No, not anymore." Meis laughs. "It feels good... to realize I didn't need him as much as I thought I did." He chucks the can in his hands over the side of the cliff, watching it fall. "I was just lonely."

Gueira considers that, humming under his breath. "You're not lonely anymore?" He laughs. "I mean, it's just us out here..."

"I have you, I'd take a good friend over a broken relationship any day," Meis admits. Flashing Gueira, a rare smile. Soft and thoughtful, leaving the rougher Burnish with an ache in his chest, he doesn't recognize.

"Damn." Gueira laughs. "That's corny as hell, man."

Meis laughs and shoves his shoulder. 

The ache grows, and Gueira can't help but turn away. 

"You have anyone?" Meis asks when the silence becomes too overbearing.

"Nah." Gueira waves a hand. "I didn't really have time for serious flings back home." When Meis says nothing, he continues. "I just... worked all the time."

"What did you do?"

"Well, I had just gotten fired from this burger joint, and I was looking for new jobs when I decided to get shitfaced and arrested." He snickers. "That's another thing, Girls don't like dead-end guys."

"You ain't a dead-end guy." Meis shakes his head. "Any girl would be lucky to have you."

Gueira glances over at him. "Thanks, man." He rubs the back of his neck. "I'd say the same to you, but I don't know if you like chicks so..."

Meis laughs, and Gueira can't help but relish the sound. 

He loves making Meis laugh. 

It's airy and hoarse, full of the character the dark man keeps from his face. He could probably live off the sound as if it were the most filling four-course meal in the world.

"I've dated women, but I think I just like guys." Meis offers. 

"That why you were handing out blowjobs for bus fare?"

"Oh, my god shut up." Meis groans covering his face. 

"I'm not judging you," Gueira assures him. "I mean it. If I knew how to give a BJ, I'd do the same thing."

"It's not that hard?" Meis cackles.

"See, I wouldn't know that!" He exclaims, and Meis shakes his head. 

"What you never had a circle jerk with the bros?" He snickers.

"Can't say the option was ever presented to me." Gueira shrugs, throwing back the last of his beer and chucking the can into the back seat. 

Meis hums in amusement, staring up into the sky.

It's hard for Gueira to keep his eyes off his partner.

He's pretty for a guy, in a way that makes his chest ache and the voices in his mind buzz in anticipation.

Anticipation for what, he's not sure. A shiver races down his spine, as his gaze fixes on Meis's lips. Pursed in thought as he examins the stars. 

A part of him wonders what it might be like... 

"Is it different..."

"Hmm?" Meis glances at him.

"Like... guys over girls."

Meis squints at him, considering the question. "I guess it's the same? But... for me, the feeling behind it is different." He offers. "Why?"

"Well, you know..." he pauses, fumbling over his thoughts, trying to find an excuse for the unusual question. "I'm just curious."

"Like bi-curious or..."

"Dunno..." Gueira snaps, "Maybe I just want an outside perspective?"

Meis studies him and shrugs. "It's not something you can really explain... it's different for everyone, right."

"Sure..." Gueira mumbles, playing with his fingers.

"If you want, I can find you a nice burly trucker to smooch, and you can figure it out for yourself." Meis laughs, and Gueira shoves him.

"Ew. I'd rather kiss you."

Meis choaks on that statement, and the air grows tense between them. 

"I mean..." Gueira clears his throat. "Like I just mean like... I trust you, you know... and like you're here. You're gay... I don't know... It's..."

"I'm not a practice dummy." Meis murmurs, a hind of venom in his tone. 

"I know!" Gueira raises his hands. "It was stupid... It was supposed to be a joke I... didn't mean it to come off shitty sorry."

"Why am I not pretty enough for you?"

"Can you fucking decide if you're offended or not." Gueira snaps and his partner snickers. 

"G, I love you, man, but I think you're straight."

"Only one way to find out."

"Can you decide if you're trying to get me to kiss you or not." Meis shakes his head. 

Gueira sniffs, glaring at him. "Maybe I am." He raises his chin. "You know for science."

Meis stares him down. "I'm inclined to decline that request."

"Loser."

"I'd rather be a loser than your gay awakening," Meis mumbles.

"Fine."

"Fine."

The tense silence ruminates between them, and Gueira huffs, reaching into the cooler in the back seat. "You want another Pabst?"

"Yea."

* * *

They've parked off the highway, tucked behind a large rock arch for privacy, as Meis demands some practice time. 

"I'm ready to burn." Meis insists, flexing his fingers. "I want to try making that armor again." 

They fling flames at each other monotonously, trying to find the spark that would summon the obsidian armor. 

"I bet, if I could make it work, it would look badass as hell." Gueira bemoans, rolling a ball of flame in his hands.

"Give yourself a couple more inches too." Meis shrugs.

"Yeah, you got tall, didn't you?"

"Stronger too." Meis murmurs, staring at his hands. "What did it look like?"

"Like you were some boss ass spider."

"A... spider...?" Meis cocks his head.

"You had like... four arms."

"Spiders have eight arms." Meis corrects him.

"Okay, mister scientist, an ant then."

Meis rolls his eyes. "Hit me again, I think I might get it this time."

Gueira swings his arm and sends a blast of ruby fire at him. 

But Meis just discharges his own wall of fire at the last second. Swearing as his blue flames swirl into the mess, sending the cacophony into the air around them. They groan together, and Meis shakes his head. "Maybe next time–"

The massive explosion echoes through the canyon smashes through the arch above them. Cracking the mass of rock in half toppling toward the ground. 

Right for Meis, who freezes in shock.

"Fuck watch out," Gueira calls already sprinting to shove him out of the way. Realizing he's not going to make it, as he tackles the other Burnish, shielding him with his own body and bracing for the impact of the shards.

Flickering sparks of energy coat his skin, as fire consumes them both. Wrapping Gueira in a heated shell, and his eyes widen. 

Oh.

The rocks bounce off his back painlessly, as he covers Meis.

His companion's eyes are wide, gasping in shock over what Gueira hopes is an imposing looking figure. 

"Dude..." Is all he can muster when Gueira pulls himself away.

"How's it look?" He asks, his voice echoing around inside the armor. 

It feels like a second skin, binding itself to his body and moving with ease as he stands. Towering over Meis and his open-mouthed excitement.

"You look like you might actually win a fistfight for once." The other Burnish laughs, reaching out to touch something outside of Gueira's line of vision. 

"You have horns.."

"You did too.."

"Wait, come look in the rearview..." Meis takes his hand. He's dwarfed under the size of an obscenely large claw, and Gueira lets himself be led to Vegas. 

He can't see the full visage in the mirror, squinting at the tiny reflection of himself, only catching a citrine grin and rose-colored horns curling out from his bulky black form.

He does look badass from what he can make out, and he whistles. Flexing to get a better look at the armor's sides.

"Fucking wicked." He whoops, as the power and energy coursing through him, starts to wane. Leaving him almost a foot shorter and drained once the armor dissipates.

"What did it feel like?" Meis asks. 

Gueira rubs his chin. "I mean, it's like you said on the road... like I needed to do something, I needed protection.."

"You were protecting someone." Meis offers.

"Yeah, but we dont want to delve too deeply into that now, do we." Gueira chuckles, hopping onto the trunk of the car. 

"Right." Meis nods, "But the same could be said for me."

"Aww, you care about me?" He snickers. "You wanna protect me."

"Uh... yeah." Meis waves his hand. "Were basically each other's assigned bastards. We have to have each other's backs." He leans against the car, staring down at his feet. "I'll get it one day."

Gueira reaches out on instinct. Ready to run his hands through Meis's hair, when he pauses.

He's never been allowed to do that. 

Why... did he think that would be appropriate.

Meis turns back to him. Glancing at the hand, and up at his companion in confusion. 

Gueira jams his finger between Meis's eyes, and the other man swears. "What the fuck?"

"Come on, we caused a scene." He nods at the broken arch. "We should get out of here."

"Sure..." Meis mutters, glancing at the formation, sliding into the driver's side.

"Um... my car." Gueira mutters.

"You really want to fire this baby up for another twenty miles after that?" Meis snorts. Lighting the ignition. 

Well, no, he doesn't. 

He collapses back into the passenger seat as boneless fatigue washes over him again. Watching the desert speed by. 

Attempting to quell the whispering in his ears, telling him to just get over himself.

Maybe he just needs to admit it.

The idea of kissing Meis is growing more enticing every day.

He's never been interested in guys, he claims. He's just... lonely and has only one companion in the world.

They're just two lonely bastards on the road, and that's it. 

Still...

Every time Meis ties up his hair, Gueira finds his eyes glued to the back of his neck. Admiring the slim curve of skin as it meets his harsh jawline. The navy tone the strands take in the bright sunlight practically begging Gueira to run his hands through it. Watch as the shimmering tresses pass over his worn hands as pert lips part, ready to delve deeper into Gueira's background. Hiding a silver tongue that manages to catch him off guard at each chance opportunity. 

He bets they're soft, and taste like magnolia. 

His one good eye manages to catch Gueira's, and he finds himself spiraling into those deep indigo depths. Hiding cold flames deep in their core the likes of which could burn him alive... 

Fuck, maybe he's not just lonely.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, they reach vegas! and have some fun !

Vegas is destroyed.

The city, at least. The car's still somehow holding itself together just fine.

The Burnish companions drive slowly through the desolate streets, eyeing dilapidated casinos along the strip, and hotels crumbling to ruin. The natural vegetation of the area is already reclaiming its territory while more delicate floral arrangements wilt and die in the arid environment.

"This sure as hell is one place to hide," Meis mutters, leaning forward to look up at the remains of Caesars Palace. Ironically depicting the Grecian ruins better now, than it did in it's prime. 

"Well, I think we deserve a five-star hideout after all this." Gueira sniffs.

"Even if its been degraded six and a half stars?" Meis chuckles, pulling into the front-drive and parking beside the valet stand.

They climb through shattered front doors carefully, and Meis hops the desk in the lobby, rifling through the drawers to hold up a pair of keys. A devious grin on his face. 

"Honeymoon suite?"

"Oh, hell, yes." Gueira cackles, as Meis throws him a key. 

"Go see if you can find any food... I'll meet you up in the room." He suggests. Giving Gueira a quick pat the back. "Make sure no one's taken our reservation." He laughs, trotting off to find the room. 

The casino... hotel... shopping center... whatever fucking category you'd put a place like this in is enormous. It takes Gueira almost an hour to find the kitchens, and subsequently, the freezer, where there's barely any food left. 

Pillagers must have taken the bulk of it decades ago, but what's left is marginally edible. Canned goods and alcohol are all they need, Gueira reasons as he shoves everything onto a serving cart and tugs it up to the suite. 

He knocks before sliding the key into the lock. "Room service," he calls out in a singsongy voice. Barreling into the suite, and whistling at the pristine nature of their new home. 

Aside from a sprinkling of dust and mildew, the room has been left nearly untouched by the elements.

Meis peers back into the room, from the balcony waving a hand. "Look..." 

Gueira joins him, looking down at the strip. Following his partner's finger as he points out a few scattered figures mingling about on the streets. "We're not the only ones here."

"I figured as much." Gueira shrugs opening up a can of Vienna sausages. "No way we were the only ones with this idea."

Meis nods, rubbing his shoulder, his eye following a few of the ant-sized pedestrians in interest. 

"How long should we stay?" He asks, absently leaning against Gueira's side and glancing up at him. 

"As long as we want." He mumbles around a mouthful of meat. "It's quiet... remote-ish... we can do whatever we want." He grins, and Meis hums in agreement.

"Let's get tattoos."

"Excuse me?" Gueira nearly choaks on his mouthful and follows Meis's indication.

One lone shop on the strip has a glowing sign out front stating that the parlor is open for business. "I just watched someone go in there. I've always wanted to get a tattoo." 

"What would you get?" Gueria asks, picking at his teeth as his companion meanders back into the room. 

"This..." He snatches a pen off the dresser and draws out a line of Kanji on a pad of paper. 

Gueira nods slowly. "Cool. I'll get it too then."

"You can't get the same tattoo as me." Meis laughs. 

"I don't know Japanese, so pick one that matches." He shrugs. 

"Why would you get a tattoo you can't read?" he snorts, laying back on the bed and stretching out.

"I trust you." Gueira shrugs. "Could be like, some cool brotherhood pact or something."

"Cement our eternal bond in ink and blood." Meis chuckles, as Gueira lays down on the mattress beside him.

"Exactly." He wags a finger at his partner, and Meis shoves the offending appendage out of his face. 

"Wash your hands, that shit smells like dog food."

He rubs his hand on the bedspread despite his partners, defeated groan. 

"Did you want to go now?"

"No... I want to rest a little first." Meis murmurs, beating the dusty pillow behind his head and flipping it over. "We both should."

"No lookout?" Gueira raises his brow.

"We're safe here." Meis sighs, pulling his partner closer. Looping his leg around Gueira's and resting his head against his chest. "The fire says it's alright."

Meis has a hard time sleeping. He used to stay up for days, lying stiff in the backseat of Vegas as Gueira drove. Just pretending to keep his partner off his ass, but gradually, those stiff sleepless nights turned to... this. Winding tightly together, diving into exhaustion, knowing they'd still be safe when they woke up.

He cradles, Meis against him, running his fingers through dark hair and pressing his face against the top of his head. 

They're safe here. There's nothing to worry about.

* * *

"You're really letting me pick a tattoo for you, huh." Meis murmurs flipping through the book of flash art. His head perched on his fist as he examines a page filled with old-style examples. 

"Sure." Gueria shrugs. "I don't care. The next one will be my choice, anyway." 

Meis snickers, "Oh, I see your game here."

"Yea, so be nice." Gueira nudges his shoulder.

The artist at the back of the shop watches them out of the corner of her eye. Wiping down the arm of the client before them.

Gueira might not be the best at reading a room, but she gives off strange energy. The hair on the back of his neck stands up every time her eyes flick between the two of them.

If the rumors were true, and Burnish are gathering to hide out in the city, she's probably uneasy to see fresh faces, and for once, Gueira's more than happy to keep his head low. What's the point in starting a fight with someone for being cautious?

She stands eventually, collecting payment from the client, and ushering him out the door. 

Gueira hears the click of the lock sliding into place and stiffens. Glancing back over his shoulder. Meis makes no indication that he noticed, and Gueira nudges his arm. "Maybe this is a bad idea."

"It's okay." He whispers back, peering at him from under his protective bang. "Trust me."

The artist moves around the counter. Sitting in front of them, while Meis continues to peruse the book. 

"So, you boys decide on something," She asks, looking Gueira up and down before turning to Meis. 

"You have a large selection of Kanji is that popular?" Meis murmurs. 

"Tourists love that shit." She waves a hand, uttering something to him in Japanese, and he nods, responding softly. She sets to work, drawing out the concept onto a tablet in her lap.

"Dude, you know Japanese?" Gueira whispers, drawing a snort from his companion.

"My family immigrated here, remember. Of course, I speak it." He shakes his head, closing the flash book and setting it to the side.

"But you have no accent."

"Neither do you dumbass." Meis jabs his thumb into his ear, turning back to the artist as she lifts the tablet to show them.

"This work for you." She asks Gueira, pointing at the one that would be his. He has no idea what it says, but it looks badass. And if Meis picked it out, he trusts that it's okay.

"Yea, fine by me," He grins, and she swirls in her chair standing and motioning for them to follow.

She ushers them into a more secluded back room, barely large enough for the pair of chairs and long bed taking up the far wall. A tray of assorted piercing and inking tools sit beside it with sketches lining the walls. Gueira examins them in interest until the tattooist shoves him down on the bed. 

"Excuse the mess." She sighs, taking a seat at the desk, "I've been backed up today."

"It's still busy out here?" Meis asks, taking a seat in the corner and crossing his arms.

"When people have nothing to do and nothing to want, they get tattoos." She informs them. "It's tough being the only one open in town." She giggles. "But fun when you get customers of similar kinship." 

Gueira frowns and glances at Meis. He's watching Gueira in boredom, his eye lingering over his shoulder. 

"Below your collarbone right." The woman asks, and Gueira snaps back to attention. 

"Oh yeah.."

"Shirt off." She mutters, leaning forward to examine her canvas as he pulls the clothing over his head. 

"So how long have you guys been on the run?" She asks, wiping down the area with a sterile wipe, shaving away the few stray hairs over the spot.

"Two months," Meis mutters from the back. "We met down in Florida."

"Oh," She hums. "You came pretty far then. Why Vegas?"

"We heard a rumor," Meis explains, and the woman nods, glancing back at him.

"You heard right then." She mutters, waving her wrist and a flicker of amber flame curls in her hand, leaving a tattooing gun in her palm—sleek and black similar to their armor, with a glowing core like molten lava. 

Gueira's jaw drops. 

"You're Burnish?" He whispers.

"The only tattooist in the country who can work on Burnish, I think." She grins as she starts in on his shoulder. 

The fabricated needle stings against his skin, and he winces, focusing on Meis in the corner. His eye is lit in interest, leaning forward on his knees to watch. "Why do you say that?" He asks.

She doesn't look up as she talks, moving the gun with practice ease as she freehands the Kanji into his chest. "We heal so quickly; it's hard to get ink to stay under the skin." She explains. "But, with this baby, it leaves a real impression. One your fire will recognize." She pulls a wipe from the counter to wipe away a trickle of blood and returns to work. "The only downside is I can only use black ink, but I prefer a minimalist style anyway." She shrugs. 

"That's tight." Gueira groans as the needle slides over his collar bone. 

"Thanks," She mutters, sitting back and wiping the area again. "You're all set. Dont worry about aftercare for these. We don't need it." She cocks a finger at Meis and the two switch spots. 

Gueira watches his companion slide off his shirt, and he feels the ache in his chest race downward. 

Light muscle tone complements Meis's slim frame. Though he looks somehow smaller without the loose attire as he straightens up, rolling his shoulders back. Gueira studies the arch of his stomach. Abs just short of being visible, creating a gentle slope to his navel, and the curve of his hips disappearing below the waistband of his boxers. 

"You're just getting your shoulder done, right?" The artist asks, cocking her head. "You dont need to take your shirt off."

Meis mutters something to her Gueira can't understand, and she snickers, holding him still to get started.

He watches Gueira with his dull expression, lips quirking slightly, teasingly enjoying Gueira's blatant stare.

He can't look away. 

"This one's on me, boys." The artist states once she's finished the ink. Leading them out of the back room and into the main shop. 

"At least let us tip you." Meis murmurs, sliding her a wad of bills, which she shrugs and pockets. 

"You came to Las Vegas to blend in, right?" She asks. Leaning against the counter.

"More or less," Meis explains. 

"Then, don't stay too long." She warns. "I dont think this town's going to be safe for much longer." She sighs. 

"Whys that?" Gueira asks.

"Freeze force has been looting in Utah." She explains, running a hand through her short-cropped hair. "Won't be long before they get here.."

"We just ran into them outside of Colorado." Meis murmurs, his face pulled into a grimace. "How long do you think we have?"

"I'd say a week, but I dont know much about those Gestapo bastards." She rests her head in her hand. "I'd advise clearing out sooner rather than later."

Meis swears, snarling at this news.

"Well, there's no way they can catch us." Gueira waves his hand. "We got Vegas. We can get out of here once we've relaxed a little."

"We should leave in the morning," Meis decides, offering a nod of appreciation to their new ally. "Stay safe."

"Wait in the morning?" Gueira whines, following his partner out into the blazing Arizona sun. "Why so soon?"

"I know those two loose cannons we met weren't much to shake a stick at." Meis murmurs, leading the way down the sidewalk back toward their hotel. "But I've seen these guys in action for real. I'm not looking to see any more." He explains. 

Gueira grumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walk. 

Meis glances over at him. "So... we should spend our time here relaxing." He wraps his arm around Gueira's shoulder, shaking him. "Let's get Something to eat... I'm starving."

The grumpy Burnish concedes, his stomach agreeing with the idea of eating something that didn't come from a can.

* * *

Their trip across the city reveals a few open establishments—some tawdry restaurants and one or two casinos that didn't quite go out of business yet. It's a little depressing, but Gueira figures that the city probably looked like this, to begin with. 

He sucks down the last of his drink, leaning heavily against the counter of the bar they decided on. 

The beer is shit, but the food is good, at least. A strange combination, if he were to give his opinion, but Meis isn't complaining. Pushing his basket of wings aside, peeled clean off the bone. His partner waves down the bartender getting them another round. 

"You said you've seen Freeze force in action." Gueira mumbles. Resting his head against the sticky wood. "And they knew you..."

Meis nods slowly, leaning back in his seat. "Right before I left Texas."

Gueira hums. "What happened?"

"My ex and I had just broken up again." Meis sighs, leaning forward, playing with the foam coating the top of his beverage. "That's what... sort of lit the match if you know what I mean. I was trying to decide what to do with myself. Took some days off of work, vegetated in my apartment," he takes a sip thinking. "I don't know how they found me..." Meis murmurs. "no one knew, but... I just got this awful feeling, like I needed to run. Then, before I could even do anything they had broken in." 

He reaches up, pulling at his bangs as he speaks. "It was chaos. I didn't know where to go... I jumped from my balcony... and when I hit the ground, there were more of them on the street. I gave them one hell of a fight, but... you know twenty to one aren't good odds." He sucks in a breath. "It was like my fire couldn't even light with how much ice they threw at me. They got me cuffed... pinned down and one of them..." he makes a firing motion and pushes back the curtain of hair.

He knew Meis favored his left side, making sure to pat down the bang covering his face if it ever blew back. Gueira had never thought to bring up the light scar he had glimpsed on occasion, crossing Meis's cheek. Figuring it was rude to point out something he was so adamant about keeping hidden. 

But what he had seen wasn't even the worst of it. It grows angrier as the healed tissue ascends, spiraling out like fissures across his brow and temple. 

His right eye is milky. The iris similarly distorted, with the pupil blown out completely. 

He had no idea it was this bad. 

"Fuck, dude.."

"Something about the ice messed with the healing. I'm not sure how I even managed to escape, but..." he sets the bang back in place. "I know I never want to see those bastards again."

Gueira nods. Feeling a prickle of guilt, remembering Meis's chastisement over his excitement on first flaring up. He's looked their enemy in the eye, and come out with the constant reminder that his life will never be the same.

They pay the bill after that. Slipping into unusual silence as they return to the hideout. Though Meis is more of the quiet type, Gueira can't bring himself to start another conversation after that.

It's not until they get back to the room, and Meis finds the bottle of Champaign Gueira had grabbed from the kitchen that their mood starts to lighten. 

"Got a big ass hot tub in the bathroom." He suggests, nudging his partner perched on the balcony with a cigarette dangling from his lips. "You wanna take a dip?"

Gueira pulls the light from between his teeth rolling filter between his fingers in thought. "What with you?"

"Sure, it's big enough for like six people." Meis shrugs, uncorking the unfortunately warm beverage. "Let's kill this bottle and relax while we can."

Gueira grins devilishly and nods, "Fine by me."

The jets don't work, but Gueira's body heat alone is enough to get a decent boil going. 

Meis even found some complimentary soaps in a maids closet to fill the tub with the scent of jasmine. Trying to enjoy themselves even as a looming sense of dread lingers over them.

They'd be fine, the fire's told him so.

Gueira rests his feet up on the edge of the tub, sinking down to his neck, as Meis strips out of his worn jeans. 

They'll need new clothes soon. His jacket's already getting pockmarked and chared from their practice flames. And though Meis has nabbed a new outfit every time he gets the chance, they defiantly need some sturdier clothes.

He drops his boxers, and Gueira sinks further down. Cowering from the heat traveling through his body, as he openly admires his companion. 

Meis pulls his hair back and climbs in beside him. Perching against the far wall and sighing contentedly. 

"Oh yeah, was a good idea." he sighs, grabbing for the bottle left on the porcelain edge. 

Gueira grins, slipping his feet down and sitting up. "Right. We're some real classy bitches now."

Meis passes him the bottle, and he sucks back the bubbly drink. Coughing around the rush of foam bursting into his mouth.

"You really can't drink this shit out of the bottle, can you?" He asks, trying again at a different angle and having better luck.

"It's champagne. We aren't fancy unless we got the flutes for it."

"The what?" Gueira scoffs.

"Champagne flutes. That's what you drink it out of."

"The fuck is that?"

"What do you normally drink champagne out of?" Meis raises his eyebrow and Gueira snorts.

"Solo cups?"

"I hate you." Meis laughs, shaking his head and taking the bottle back. "You're no longer permitted to partake in my prosecco," he utters.

"It's champagne, not prosecco." Gueira insists.

"It's neither. It's André." Meis murmurs showing off the label, taking another sip himself.

Gueira follows a trickle of opaque liquid as it trails down his partner's jaw. Tracking it down his neck, as it curves around his bobbing adam's apple. 

His tongue feels too big for his mouth as he reaches out to brush the rivulet away. Meis pauses, staring at him in surprise. 

His thumb fits perfectly under the pout of his bottom lip as Gueira swipes the champagne away. Admiring the soft plush of Meis's skin, as he cups the other man's chin in his palm. Running the thumb over the Burnish's bottom lip. His partner sucks in a breath, sending Gueira's mind spiraling. 

Returning to repressed thoughts of Magnolia flavored lips and silken hair. 

Meis reaches up. Sliding his damp fingers over Gueira's wrist. 

"The fuck are you doing," he whispers. Eye locked in on Gueira. Blown out and studying him with an unreadable expression tucked into its depths.

He's moving without thinking. Gueira breathes drawing closer, as anticipation overwhelms his mind. "I dont know..."

"Then, can you figure it out." Meis sighs. His pulse racing against Gueira's hand. "Because I really–"

"I want to kiss you," Gueira blurts.

"For science?" Meis chuckles coldly, his eye betraying his disappointment.

Gueira shakes his head. 

"I just... I want.. to kiss you..."

Meis squints at him. "That's pretty fuckin gay man."

"Well, then maybe I'm a little fuckin gay." He decides. Emboldened by the liquor in his veins and the bubbly enthusiasm in his gut. 

Meis hums, reaching up, giving his partner the briefest of pecks. Grazing over the skin of his bottom lip. 

Gueira huffs, as Meis pulls away, studying him.

"Come on, man." The impatient Burnish groans, scowling. "That was barely even a kiss, I'm not trying to fuck around I–"

Meis silences him. 

Parted lips cover Gueira's mid-shout. Fisting his fingers into his hair and pressing against him with crushing force. The hushed man melts into the feeling of heat and static curling under his skin, rupturing his veins on a one-track path toward his groin. 

Gueira gasps as a tongue pushes past his teeth, and Meis moans into his mouth. Gripping his cheeks in urgency, pressing his thumb against his partners jugular. Gueira moves closer, intent on taking control of the situation. His hands wrapping around Meis's waist, pulling him into his lap, pressing them back against the porcelain wall, wind his way into Meis's mouth, drawing a heady groan form his partner. 

"Fuck, G..." Meis breathes against him. "I want–" 

A shrill scream echoes out from the open window, and the two of them freeze. 

Meis's eye widens in horror, and a chill descends Gueira's spine. 

Forcing his hair on end, as a loud explosion follows the scream, and shouting erupts from the streets below. 

"Freeze Force," Meis whispers as the wind from a fleet of choppers blows through the bedroom's curtains.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that 'sex in... unfortuante places' tag.  
> Yea.
> 
> This chapters really long, sorry about that.

There's nothing to pack, as the pair scramble out of the hotel. Rushing down to the street to find chaos outbreaking all over the city, Soldiers in heavy black armor are marching along the road, shooting at everything that moves. There doesn't seem to be a distinction to who as Freeze Force captures, whether they're Burnish or normie, the military force simply captures and detains everyone they can find.

"Fuck Vegas." 

Gueira turns at Meis's pained exclamation to see their car has been flattened by one of the choppers, surrounded by troopers organizing their attack. Thankfully they haven't noticed the pair yet. 

Meis snatches his hand, and drags Gueira into the shadows of the casino's front lawn, ducking down under decorative architecture.

"How the fuck are we getting out of here?" Meis asks, his voice dim over as panic filling Gueira's mind.

His eyes lock on the figures of screaming citizens, fighting back with minimal success, and his blood boils under his skin. Hatred and fury replacing his initial fear. How dare these bastards. No one was doing anything wrong. They're just living, trying to find an ounce of normalcy in a world that's cursed them to exile. 

"Come on, we can probably sneak past–"

"Meis... we're not running." Gueira insists. Turning to his partner with a steely look in his eyes. "I'm not going to just let these bastards get away with this."

A line of nearby soldiers spot them, and they start to shoot. Gueira draws up a wall of flame, and their attackers shout in victory over finding Burnish. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Meis snaps. 

"We have to fight–"

"NO," Meis roars. "We are getting the fuck out of here-"

"Oh, pussy up." Gueira snarls back. "We're not getting out of here by being tricky." He insists, shaking his head. "Besides. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I ran away with my tail between my legs."

His partner stares at him with a look of apprehension. "We can't fight them all!" he insists, and Gueira draws his flames around his body. Calling on that feeling of protection, needing that strength to take on these villains.

"Fucking watch me!" He exclaims, through the distorted din of the black armor coating his body. 

He charges the Freeze Force soldiers, knocking them back with a burst of flame. Igniting blast after blast as bullets of ice hit his chest. He laughs as the freeze seeps into his core, it barely leaves a dent. He lunges forward, throwing the ironclad line of soldiers aside.

These assholes want a fight, and they are sure as hell are going to get it. 

More members of Freeze Force draw closer, and he pulls up another wall of flame, Letting it crash back over into the street as the whispering voices in his ears go crazy. 

Burn it all, take it down. Watch the world erupt into flame and piss on the graves of the villains who've wronged them.

He brings down everything in his path as the tidal wave of ruby fire washes down the street. Melting the restraints of hostages and crushing the caravans holding them. The Burnish scatter from their captors, under the officers' roars of fury, turning their full attention on Gueira.

Another bullet sinks into his back, and he ignores it. Until another joins it, and a barrage of weaponry targets him. He struggles under the weight of the combined hail growing on his back. 

And then it vanishes. 

A hunk of ice half his size falls to the ground beside him, followed by a blaze of aqua and the sleek form of Meis skating by, slicing through the line of assailants at Gueira's back. 

"G, focus on destroying the rest of the choppers," Meis shouts, over the crackle of flame. "Get everyone out."

No problem. 

He reaches for the nearest vehicle, slicing through the exterior and peeling the metal back easily as if it were a sheet of paper. 

The captured flee quickly, uncaring that their hands are still bound in ice.

The streets are lined with the unconscious bodies of Freeze Force soldiers. Metal and glass sprinkled around as the fire begins to consume the city. 

Other Burnish join in the fray, pushing back the never-ending forces, and even Gueira is beginning to feel the strain of battle as it carries on endlessly. 

Meis appears beside him again, grabbing his arm. 

"The choppers are all down?" He asks, and Gueira nods. 

"I think I got all of them." 

"Cut off the road ahead and behind those ice-holes, and we can escape through the side streets." 

Gueira nods, as Meis goes to warn the other Burnish lingering on the battlefield.

He takes a leaping jump, using the tall structures around them to propel himself behind the line of assailants, slamming his fists into the ground. Cracking the concrete and pushing the earth up from below, blowing flaming chunks of rock and dirt in the soldiers' faces. Roaring as he charges through the line, and doing the same once he's clear of the barrage. 

Taking off after the retreating line of Burnish as they disappear into the desert. 

He gasps in the thick night air, as he runs, lungs burning as the wave of adrenaline powering his flame recede, and he's left boneless and exhausted.

The group he had followed out of Las Vegas separates without a word, spreading out across the desert to disappear into the surrounding wilderness.

A shiver in his mind reminds him of danger closing in fast, and he acts on instinct. Gueira closes his eyes, following his thoughts of a need to escape, feel the wind in his hair, and chase after Meis.

He flexes his fingers, and a sturdy bar fills his palm, a supportive seat hitting his rear as he falls back. Something to get him over the rough terrain, he thinks, as a roaring fills his ears, and four wheels skitter over the dusty ground. Rocketing him forward and forcing his eyes open. 

Gueira, whoops in victory at the sight of the ATV beneath him, cruising across cracked concrete, kicking up a cloud of dust and smoke in his wake.

He catches sight of a slim figure staggering along the side of the highway ahead, Gueira wrenches the handlebars of his bike, sidling up beside him. Blowing away the furious puff of flame, Meis sends his way in a panic.

"It's me!" he shouts, slowing to a stop, as his partner nearly falls over in shock.

"Where the hell did you get that?" He asks as Gueira tugs him on back. 

"Made it. I'll show you later when you're feeling up to it," He shouts. Revving the engine and dragging them away from the main road, over the gravel and dirt coating their newfound path. 

"You know… I should listen to you more." Meis calls out over the wind in their ears as he rests his head against Gueira's back. "That was fucking awesome." He laughs, whooping out his final exhausted hurrah, and Gueira feels his full weight resting against him. 

* * *

"It's time, we humans are given a safe haven from this Burnish scourge. Promopolus will be the only salvation for the human race in these troubling times." Reads the monotype words filling the bottom of the silent tv screen perched in the corner of the diner they had chosen for breakfast. Off-time to the video playing on the local news station of a pompous man in a white suite speaking to his supporters. The crowd cheering ahead of the lines as Gueira tuts his disapproval into his coffee.

"Can you believe this shit?" He mutters to Meis on his left.

"What?" Meis asks, turning his whole body around to look at the tv. 

"This... dude... who the fuck is he anyway?"

"Some.. hotshot philanthropist." Meis sighs, poking at his runny eggs in disgust. "I heard he's some kind of national hero now. Saved some kid from a Burnish house fire, and suddenly you're the authority on how we should be treated." He scoffs. 

The image shifts to photos of Freeze Force members apprehending Burnish, shooting at them point-blank. Shards of ice flying over the screen as the captured are hauled into trucks. "The massacre of Las Vegas is a perfect example," reads the text on the screen following these images.

"Massacre?" Gueira mutters, glancing at his partner. Meis stiffens as graphic images of burned and wounded men in black armor are treated and carted off in medical vans.

"Six of our officers were killed, and hundreds of others were injured by the arsonist terrorist group known as Mad Burnish." Gueira snickers, sipping at his coffee. 

Until a freeze-frame video from a security camera appears on the screen. 

Showing a blurry visage of Gueira and Meis, rushing out of a hotel hand in hand. 

His heart sinks into his gut. 

"We won't stop until these terrorists are captured and see true justice. We believe the men in this video are the leaders of the group and should be treated as unstable and dangerous."

"We have to go." Meis murmurs, fumbling for his wallet.

"Dude, it's fine. No one's watching the tv." Gueria whispers. "If you act suspicious it will give us away–"

"Do not approach these men. Report them to the Freeze Force Hotline, and stay vigilant."

Gueira clears his throat, noticing that he was, in fact, wrong about that assumption, as a man in the back of the diner watches them, slipping his hand into his pocket slowly.

"Really want to address this casually?" Meis murmurs, eye on the man as well. 

"Nah, let's go," Gueira mutters. "These eggs suck anyway." He stands and throws a wad of bills on the counter, trying his best to saunter out casually.

Until the man at the back stands, and Gueria books it hearing Meis hot on his tail as they shove open the door to the diner. He summons Miami, carting them off down the highway. 

"Never a dull moment, huh?" He grumbles, turning onto a dirt road and groaning as they navigate the rocky terrain.

"I'm so tired of this shit." Meis murmurs, gripping his waist. Pressing his face into his partners back. "Can't even order coffee in peace."

"We're wanted, men! Maybe we should get haircuts, and grow beards." Gueira offers and feels a sharp pinch to his side. 

"Might give your brain a chance to breathe." Meis laughs, leaning full-bodied against him.

Gueira swallows hard, Keeping his eyes glued to the road.

They haven't talked about it. 

Or rather, any conversation about the hotel's hot tub event seemed to have vanished from their minds. Meis never brought it up again, didn't try to push it past where they left it.

It's fine.

Whatever romantic tension has been brewing between them is, it isn't as important as staying focused—running as far as their fire will take them.

They weave between the high walls of a canyon, coming out on the other side and following a river. A blast echoes out, and Gueira flinches, tugging Miami off the road. 

A flaming motorcycle races by followed closely by a line of armored cars. A gunman on each firing shards of ice after their target. 

Meis stands on the back of the bike. Watching the commotion. "We should help that guy..." He looks down at Gueira, who nods slowly.

"Yeah... those odds don't look good." He looks up at his partner, grinning madly. 

"Ready to ride, babe? " Meis asks, pulling his hair back. "I'll stop the trucks, and you do the cleanup."

"Got it." Gueira nods, as Meis summons Dallas, garbing themselves in armor and swinging out to follow the procession.

Meis slides low beside the trucks, slashing the tires efficiently while Gueira leaps onto the top of the rearmost vehicle. The guard poking through the roof screams as the Burnish tears the ice gun from its hinges and chucks it away, filling the vehicle's interior with fire. Leaping onto the car in front, doing the same as each truck is stopped along the road. Until all guns are leveled on him.

Gueira dodges their fire, climbing to the front-most car, making a leaping jump and landing on the concrete to send a blast of flame under the cars' wheels, sending them hurtling back into one another. Individual soldiers climb out, gripping their weapons close as they approach the Burnish in front of them. Gueira, whoops, getting ready to send another blast their way when Meis cuts in front of them—disarming the agents at an alarming speed with a swift slash from his back arms—spinning donuts around the group to trap them in a wall of blue flame.

"Come on," Meis shouts, motioning for Gueira to follow. "We're in the clear now. They can't follow."

He leads the charge after the escaping Burnish, as Gueira monitors the scene behind them. The more they burn, the more he feels ready to take on the world. Like nothing could stop him. 

He bellows loudly, revving Miami into high gear and driving circles around Meis. "Fuck, let's do this more often." He cheers. 

His partner chuckles, slowing down to avoid a collision. "Keep your tits on dumbass. We have to get away before they call backup."

The roar of an engine echoes beside them and Gueira feels a shiver coarse down the back of his neck. The rider cloaked in dark riding gear pulls up beside them, turning to survey the pair through his yellow visor.

He revs his engine again, and a flicker of golden flame shoots out of the exhaust.

"You good man," Meis calls out. 

"I had it under control." He retorts. Observing them with interest. "You're those guys... from Las Vegas."

Gueira nods, "Sure, what of it?"

"Follow me." He mutters, cocking his head. "You need to see something." 

Gueira glances at his partner, and Meis shrugs. "He's burnish... it'll probably be fine?"

* * *

The stranger parks at a dingy little bar off the highway early in the evening. Neglecting to offer the two any indication of where they were, or what they 'needed to see.' 

A worn sign in the establishment's window says that it's closed, though the string of bikes lining the sidewalk and racket from inside offer a different indication. 

Gueira squints at the Burnish, as he vanishes his helmet. He's swarthy, rough, and observers the pair with an air of command as he brushes a hand through slicked-back red hair. His eyes are hidden behind black shades. 

Meis crosses his arms, watching the stranger with uncertainty. "Well, what do you want?"

"I want you to join us." He insists. "I saw ya'll first hand in Las Vegas. You're strong. If you're ballsy enough to go up against Freeze Force alone, I want you on our crew."

"Crew?" Meis asks, raising his brow.

"Mad Burnish." He reveals, and the pair exchange a look of shock. "They call me Cheif. I've been acting leader of the group for the last twenty years."

"That's nice, dude." Gueira holds up a hand. "But we're not..." He gasps at Meis, Looking for the right words.

"We're not terrorists." Meis snorts. "We just saw an opportunity to help our people, and we took it."

"Neither are we." Chief sighs, flexing his hands. "but... you sparked something way bigger than we ever could."

Gueira blinks slowly. "What?"

He pulls out a phone, motioning the two of them closer.

"Not just the Las Vegas burnish, but everyone across the country saw the footage of you two tearing it up." He pulls open a forum and scrolls through videos of other Burnish fighting back against Freeze Force soldiers. Accompanied by words of support and encouragement, from not just burnish but alleged normies as well. Gueira's eyes nearly bulge from his head in shock.

"We did that..." Meis murmurs, glancing at him, equally surprised.

Gueira wraps an arm around his shoulders, shaking him in jubilation. 

"Dude... this is so cool..."

"It started with this." The gruff man interrupts their celebration, pulling open another video. The two of them in the convenience store, before they set the place ablaze. "We've received a lot of new recruits since this came out." He slides the phone back into his pocket. "But recruiting you comes with expectations." He sighs, crossing his arms. "You two are strong... much stronger than anyone we have right now... and as such... I'd expect the group would be keen have you take the reigns." He lowers his shades to look between the two of them in interest. "Would you be willing to take my place one of these days, as the leaders or Mad Burnish?"

Meis winces and rubs the back of his neck. "In all honesty, we're just trying to stay alive." He sighs. "We don't want to get involved in–"

"Sidebar." Gueira murmurs, slapping his partner on the shoulder and pulling him over to the porch where Cheif couldn't hear them.

"What's wrong?" He asks, 

"This is not..." Meis sighs, rubbing his face. "I dont want to do all this. I just want to go somewhere quiet and safe–"

"We've been running for MONTHS." Gueira insists. "There is nowhere safe. Don't you realize that?" He throws his hands up. "Normies might be able to make their own utopia, but that means hell for the rest of us." He puffs out his chest. "I dont want to run anymore." He exclaims. "I want my freedom, and if that means fighting for it, then I'm more than happy to go down swinging."

Meis deflates, grimacing as he looks at his feet. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I let that happen to you." He opens his mouth to continue protesting, but Gueira holds up a hand.

"Then, dont let it happen." He smirks, resting his hand on Meis's shoulder. "And I'll do the same for you." 

Meis shakes his head.

"How many times have you told me to simmer and regretted it?" Gueira snickers. "How often you tried to tell me to knock it off, and all I've done was kept swinging?"

"You never listen to a goddamn word, I say," Meis snorts, eyeing him as his tone turns playful.

"Yea, and how many times did you think to yourself afterward, 'damn that idiot, he's so hot when he ignores me.'" 

Meis punches him in the chest and Gueira wheezes. "Don't know if I've ever thought that in all honestly." He snickers. 

"I need you, Meis," Gueira admits, doubled over. "Our brothers and sisters want freedom. I want it... and I need you to help me."

Meis squints at him, sucking his teeth in thought as he brushes his hair back over his shoulder.

"You gotta listen to me more then."

"Sure." Gueira shrugs. "As long as you're not telling me to run away."

"Only if we actually do need to run away." 

Gueira waves a hand. "We're the Mad Burnish. We'll tear shit up and never look back." 

Meis rolls his eye. "You'll be the death of me."

He ruffles Gueira's hair as he passes, nodding at the stranger. "Fine... How do we... join your arson gang."

Cheif snickers, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. "You get a drink with the company, and they'll decide if they want to take orders from you someday."

"I'll do the talking then." Meis offers.

"I'll manage any upstarts." Gueira chimes in.

"You can barely manage your own upstart ass." Meis laughs as they follow Cheif inside.

The dingy little space is packed with people—static swarms in his ears in such close contact with other Burnish. A few clusters of people nearby lookup in interest as the trio enters.

"Oi." Cheif calls out, reaching behind himself to pull Gueira in front of him. "Got a surprise for you guys."

The group goes silent at the sight of the two men, and Gueira shifts on his feet.

Six months ago, walking into a biker bar and calling out like that meant someone was looking for trouble. 

But here, as the inebriated Burnish start to identify, who is standing in front of them. The association clicks, and he's tugged forward by a burly arm. 

"You're those kids, aren't you!"

"The Vegas Burnish!" 

"The 7/11 Singers!"

Gueira clears his throat. "We're not kids-"

A beer is shoved into his hand. He's spun into a booth near the front of the bar as people start to crowd them. Meis is pushed against his side and graced similarly with a drink as the group descends into raucous excitement.

"Tony! Flick on the juke! We got celebrities in the house." Someone shouts, and Gueira freezes up under the illustrious attention. 

"I watched you guys bust open those freeze force goons and man that fired me up!" Some chick shouts, leaning over the table to get in Gueiras face. "My boo and I went on a rampage after that, didn't we babe?" She nudges a studly woman beside her, who nods though the foam of her mug. 

"Those ice-holes were staking out our town for weeks until me, and my firecracker over here managed to drive them out." She slams the mug on the table. "Joined the gang right after. We wanted a taste of the revolution."

"Revolution." Gueira nods. "Yea... that's why we're here..." He begins until a tray of shots is dropped in front of him, and more Burnish decide to join in on storytime. The bar is thrown into chaos, as drinks find their way into his hand one after another. With Meis tucked tightly beside him. His hesitation over the ordeal vanished with his sobriety, as he caters to conversing with their rowdy fans. 

They have... fans?

"Cool tat!" Someone shouts as they bring over a line of shots. "What's it say?" 

Meis throws one back, glancing down at his shoulder. "Wind Blade."

Gueira choaks on the tequila slamming the glass down. "Wait, fuck you!"

Meis blinks at him in shock. "What?" 

"You got a badass line like wind blade, and you got me chicken noodle soup?" He tugs down the line of his shirt, and Meis tosses his head back, a raucous hollar leaving his throat.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." He covers his face, leaning down to rest his forehead against the counter. "I never told you, did I?"

"What?"

"Your's says lightning blade."

Gueira furrows his brow. "Oh..."

Someone to his right jostles his shoulder, in amusement, as Meis tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. 

"Why Lightning blade?" 

Meis shrugs, moving back to his beer, playing with the handle of his glass. "Its Japanese mythology." He explains. "Fujin and Raijin are the gods of wind and lighting. You said you wanted a matching tattoo, its like brothers in mischief and mayhem... figured it fit." Gueira grins madly, pulling him into a hug as Meis cackles, struggling in his iron grip.

Cheif clears his throat. "Settle down." The group goes silent immediately, turning to face their leader as he tugs off his glasses. "As most of you know, I've been the leader of Mad Burnish, since the need for resistance came into fruition, twenty years ago." The group cheers, and he raises his hands. "We've done some good work, messing up Freeze Force's raids and causing havoc for the normies who want to keep us down, but it's time for a new era." He looks at the two welcomed members with a knowing look. "I want these two to take the reigns eventually." He rests his hands on his hips. "I know some of you will be hesitant about this change, but... I think these guys will have the balls to get shit done."

He raises a hand, and Meis clears his throat, climbing up onto the table, staggering under the weight of alcohol they've already consumed. 

"Hey," He mutters, waving a hand at the crowd. "You guys are fucking messy, arent ya?" He laughs, and the bar laughs with him. 

"I met my buddy Gueira here... something like six months ago in Florida." He begins and scratches his chin. "We've been through hell to get this far, just trying to scope out a place for ourselves. Las Vegas was supposed to be our sanctuary. But y'all saw what happened there." Gueira stares at him, transfixed. Meis offers his partner a sly grin and continues. "We're sick and tired of running." The group roars, and Meis raises his hand again. They grow silent instantly. "We want to burn. It's in our nature. And ya know what, if we're going to be treated like criminals, like scum. Something to be wiped out and chucked aside, why the fuck shouldn't we fight back?" Shouts of agreement ring out around them. "Why shouldn't we stand up against the horrible hand we've been dealt with? Why the fuck does Foresight and his Gestapo get to decide who will live and who will die?" He raises his chin as the crowd grows rowdier around them. "So we, a pair of fuckers with no real idea what we're doing, are ready to get up and do something about all this. Its time for direct action. Hit them where it hurts." He explains to raucous cheers from the group.

Gueira's heart explodes in his chest at the fire and passion behind his partner's words. He would be shocked if everyone in the room couldn't feel the electricity burning under his skin, as he watches Meis fire up the crowd.

Christ, he loves this man.

Meis collapses back into the booth, grinning at Gueira and nudging his side. "You've been quiet. Guess you do need me, huh?"

"Oh, shut up." Gueira scoffs, downing his beer, to quell the rise in his pulse. "Jus' cause you can talk to a crowd doesn't make you some big boss."

"It makes me the brains." He shrugs. "And you're the muscle."

"You think so?" Gueira beams at him. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." He laughs.

Meis leans closer, nearly nicking his ear with his lips to whisper for only him to hear. "Get me another shot, and I'll be happy to sing your praises all night." He runs his hand along his partner's leg, that heady voice going straight to Gueiras cock. He nearly vaults over the table to get another flight for them, with Meis cackling at his desperation.

* * *

Gueira is slammed back against the bathroom stall as Meis crushes their lips together, snaking his tongue into the wet heat of his mouth. He can't remember the exact course of action that lead to this. 

How they managed to break away from the crowd in the bar, avoid wandering eyes hand in hand. When exactly Meis decided he wanted to do this. Why they're doing it here?

Though he's not complaining, as Meis slides his hands down his partner's chest, grabbing at his shirt as he grinds his hips up into the hardening length trapped beneath folds of leather. Meis groans openly, fumbling for the studded belt on Gueira's hips and wasting no time in pulling it undone while Gueira snakes his hands through long tresses. Pushing back on the force against him with teeth clashing, in disjointed urgency.

He bucks up, cock aching, and demanding friction while the heat between them rises. Snuffing out the oxygen in the air, leaving them gasping for breath as adrenaline courses through his veins.

Meis breaks away, latching himself onto Gueira's neck and sucking heavily against his jugular as he palms his partner's cock through his boxers. 

"Fuck, you're big." Meis gasps, nipping at his earlobe. 

"That a problem?" Gueira snickers, bucking into the hand, craning his head back. Giving Meis all the space he needs to leave his rough marks along tanned skin, embracing the pain, as the sensations travel south. 

His boxers are shoved down to his ankles, and a calloused hand wraps around his shaft. 

He gasps loudly. 

And a pair of fingers are shoved in his mouth. 

"Shh... You'll blow our cover, baby." Meis mutters, leaving one lingering kiss on his collar, over the long healed tattoo. "Don't make too much noise," he whispers, sliding a finger into his throat. Causing Gueira to gag, and his hips to buck involuntarily. 

Meis chuckles. "Be good for me." He draws the digits from his mouth. "And I'll keep that in mind for next time.."

"next–" The hand in his mouth trails down his chin, wrapping around his throat, thumb pressing firmly against his jugular. 

"Next time." Meis gasps into his ear, drawing his fingers slowly along Gueira's cock. Lazily trailing his thumb over the head. Wiping away the precum leaking from his slit and pressing firmly into the sensitive area. "When I decide, you're ready." Meis murmurs into his ear. Tightening the grip on his neck as he begins jerking Gueira off. Pressing himself flush against the other man. "And I let you fuck me." He promises, a scattering of aqua sparks curling out from his mouth. "You want that, don't you?" He asks. Picking up speed, and Gueira gasps for air. So torn between ache and pleasure, finding he loves both sensations so dearly. 

"Answer me," Meis demands, releasing his grip on Gueira's neck, and he groans. 

"yes! Fuck!" 

He hums, giving Gueira barely a second to recover, as the hand tightens again, and he has to bite his lip to muffle the deep moan escaping his lips. 

Meis kisses his cheek softly. "Good boy," He laughs, picking up speed along his shaft, twisting his wrist and filling Gueira's mind with blissful helplessness. Consumed by the sheer power, Meis commands. "Now..." his partner murmurs. "Tell me how much you want to fuck me." He rereleases his neck, allowing Gueira to breathe as he struggles to force words out of his throat. 

"I... Fuck I don't know. So bad?"

"Do better." Meis snarls. His hand stops at the base of his shaft, holding him firmly, and denying Gueira any stimulation as the dominated Burnish fishes for a statement to give. 

"Oh, come on." he gasps. "You know I'm not good with words."

"Yea? So?" Meis raises his brow. "Pussy up, baby boy. Or this will be the last handjob you ever get."

He jolts forward at the threat. "Damn. How can I think when you're doing all this, man?" He pants. "I can't stop watching you, get you out of my head. Fuck I dont know if I've ever wanted someone as bad as you..." 

Meis hums in approval. Letting his fingers drift along his shaft. "More"

"I... I wana feel you on my cock." He offers, and Meis nods.

"More."

"Shit" He whimpers when Meis stills again. The ache in his gut reaches an almost painful level of arousal, as he rolls his head to the side, burying his face into Meis's hand. "I want to fuck you so hard I gotta carry you around on my back for a week." He forces out. "I wanna make you scream so loud every mother fucker in the world knows you're mine." He moans. "Knows I get you all to myself, and they can't get a piece unless I say so. Hell, if you asked, I'd split your ass in front of the entire gang if it made you happy." He squeezes his eyes shut. "Please, Meis, I need you so bad." he whimpers. "I've never needed anyone as much as I need you. Your cock, mouth, heart, I want it all, every fucking inch of you." 

The hand on his neck disappears, and Gueira's eyes snap open in panic.

Was that too much? Was that wrong somehow–

Plush lips wrap around his head, and Gueira loses his composure, begging his hips to still as Meis urges his length into his mouth. Rolling his wrist in the space, he hasn't taken yet. 

Gueira drags his fingers through the silken strands he's fantasized about for so long. Fisting his hand in them and rolling his hips despite his partner's previous warnings. 

He needs this. 

Meis groans around him, seeming to forget his protest about making too much noise. 

The sound of a zipper descending catches his ear, and Gueira looks down. 

Meis is watching out of his good eye. Hooded and blown out in arousal as he pulls his cock from his pants, working himself in time with his bobbing head. 

Gueira bucks his hips again, holding Meis along his shaft as the sight draws his climax through his body, threatening to burst as Meis brushes his nose against the scruff around his base. Moaning in surprise, and working himself faster. 

"More babe." Gueira gasps. "I'm gonna cum." He warns. "I wana cum in your mouth." He bucks his hips again and feels a steadying hand on his stomach. 

Meis mutters out an affirmative grunt, and Gueira holds him still, moving shallow and deep as he tosses his head back. 

"Fuck, babe." He gasps as the wave breaches, and he releases down the other Burnish's throat. 

Meis gags, and follows him seconds later. Spilling out onto the dirty bathroom floor. As he coughs, pulling back and heaving. 

Gueira's on his knees in an instant. Holding his cheeks. "Shit... shit, I'm sorry... was that too much..."

"Shut up." Meis coughs, wiping away a dribble of spit as he catches his breath. "I'd let you bend me over the sink right now if I didn't care enough about the whole bar knowing." He laughs. "I did not expect that out of you." Meis shakes his head. 

Gueira grins. "Give me like an hour, and we can try then–"

Meis scoffs and kisses him softly. "Cocky fuck."

"You're one to talk." He mutters, ignoring the bitter taste on his tongue, and musk curling into his nose. Flying on cloud nine, even if it came from a quicky in the dingy bathroom of some highway biker bar. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Drop a Kudos and comment if you liked it!
> 
> You can follow me on twitter @highlighterass to watch me bitch about this and post updates.


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